


Man of Constant Sorrow

by 221BJen (jcoz1701)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcoz1701/pseuds/221BJen
Summary: He couldn’t help but wonder if it was his lot in life to lose Bucky over and over... Post Civil War fix it that I just couldn't NOT write.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Callie4180](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie4180/gifts).



> Before we begin, in this fic I am choosing to ignore the 'kiss'. In my mind, Steve Rogers thanked Sharon Carter, like the gentleman that he is, shook her hand as an equal and she wished our boys luck on their bid for freedom. Whew. That felt good. 
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my dear friend Callie4180 (who may have betaed this a while ago and will probably be betaing her own gift fic in the future. Sorry! Happy late birthday!) and would not exist without her help and the help of gowerstreet and EnduringChill, all of whom are more than willing to wail with me over a dumb super soldier and his murder boyfriend. Seriously, go read their stuff, they are brilliant and worthy of your kudos!
> 
> The rating and tags may change as this is a WIP. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 - Womb to Tomb - Longing

He couldn’t help but wonder if it was his lot in life to lose Bucky over and over until- Well, until the end of the line, right? Steve Rogers had been an artist, a soldier, a hero. A god. Just a kid from Brooklyn. All of those things. But he had never managed to hold on to the one thing in his life that had actually meant something. He had opened his eyes in the future and looked on a strange version of New York that was fantastic and wondrous and  _ empty _ . It didn’t contain James Buchanan Barnes and he had wept for it.

The war, the train, the dark waters of the Potomac that tried to drown them both. A progression of events to rip them apart. Now they both stood in the middle of paradise, no closer together even though only a scant few feet separated them. Steve stood, arms folded rigidly across his chest, holding in the howl of loss that was threatening to rise up and rip itself free from his throat. Bucky wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t look him in the eye. He remembered more than he wanted to admit but Steve couldn’t bring himself to press on those unseen wounds until they bruised and bled under the skin. He had enough of his own.

“I know what you’re going to say.” Bucky’s voice was low and rough. Steve looked at the ground and waited. They hadn’t talked about it. He hadn’t been able to say the words to stop Bucky from putting himself back in cryo. He was going to lose him again and there was nothing he could do about it. So he waited to keep himself from begging Bucky not to do this, not to leave him again. “Stevie, I have to. It’s not safe.  _ I’m _ not safe.”

Steve snorted and looked up at the ceiling, the clear blue sky mocking him through the transparent walls. “Safe? Nothing’s  _ safe _ , Buck.” He finally looked over at where Bucky sat on the low exam table. The medical staff had cleared the room at a sign from the king when it became apparent that both men were definitely not in agreement with each other about the plan. “You really want to talk about  _ safe _ ?” He uncrossed his arms only to clasp his hands behind his back, parade rest a security blanket for the tension in his body. “We have no home, no  _ country _ -” He trailed off at the look on Bucky’s face. It was a shadow of the smile that he remembered from  _ before _ , but it was there. The mix of sorrow and fondness in those eyes was enough to make him forget what he was about to say.

Bucky shook his head. “Always so fucking dramatic, Rogers.” He quirked a grin that Steve couldn’t help but return, sad as it was, even as tears stung his eyes. Bucky’s face fell. “Aw, Stevie. Come here.” Steve crossed the gulf between them and fell to his knees, arms wrapping around Bucky’s waist. He pressed his face into the thin white tank that separated them and breathed him in. The howl of loss made a reappearance and he ruthlessly choked it back, shoulders shaking with the effort. Bucky’s hand cupped the back of his head. Steve wanted to stay there forever, just like that, surrounded by this man. Bucky leaned down and Steve held him so that he wouldn’t overbalance, still getting used to the loss of the weapon that was still partially fused to his body. He curled himself into an impossible ball so that he could press his lips to Steve’s hair. “It won’t be forever, I promise.”

They had never been lovers. More than friends but neither willing to cross that line. They had survived in an era that would have destroyed them for loving each other. And when he had woken up in a time it was accepted, Bucky had been dead and Steve had wanted to follow him. Now they were both alive and it still wasn’t the right time. Not when one of them was about to be frozen in time while the other would be left to wait by his side. Steve gripped Bucky harder, willing him to change his mind, change this course of action that would leave him alone. Again. He remembered the first time he’d been allowed outside and saw two men holding hands, no one paying any more attention than if it had been a young woman and the man courting her. He had stopped in the middle of the street, only moving when Nat had urged him forward so that he wouldn’t be caught out staring. He had felt her understanding eyes on him as he struggled with the emotion of knowing that they could have had that, could have loved each other in every way they knew how. “I know, Buck.” His voice was thick with unshed tears.

Steve pulled his face away and looked up, Bucky’s fingers still in his hair. It would be so easy to stretch up and claim the mouth that he had known for almost a century. Bucky shook his head. “Not like this.” His mouth quirked in a crooked grin. “You can be my Prince Charming.” 

That drew a reluctant laugh out of Steve. “Does that make you Snow White?” He rested his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “I remember going to see that. You scraped up the money somehow so that we could get popcorn.” Inexplicably, the memory of sitting in the dark, watching amazing colors float across a screen, Bucky warm at his side, is what pushed him over the edge. He didn’t sob, but the tears broke free. His voice cracked. “I don’t want you to do this.” 

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders, so much broader now than when they were young, his voice thick. “I remember you running home and drawing every one of those damn dwarves from memory.” He cleared his throat and leaned his cheek against the top of Steve’s head. “I know you don’t. But this is my decision. T’Challa’s people will do what they can to fix me. Make me a little less broken.” He cleared his throat again. “Make me safe.”

Steve sighed and stood. Now it was Bucky’s turn to look up at him, to hold onto Steve’s shirt with his good hand to keep him from moving away. Steve’s palm spanned the expanse of skin between Bucky’s neck and the mass of scars that culminated in the metal cap covering the remnants of HYDRA’s blasphemous creation. He wondered if Bucky felt exposed like this, baring the damage for all to see. He tried to think back and remember if he had seen Bucky like this since he’d broken free, scarred and vulnerable. He didn’t think so. It had either been leather and body armor or soft things, flannel and fleece and worn denim, that had shrouded his skin from view up until now. He looked and all he could see was peace on Bucky’s face. Peace with his decision to leave Steve alone as long as it would keep him safe. Steve closed his eyes. “Always trying to keep me safe. You never change.”

“Never will. Someone needs to look out for your dumb ass.”

Steve opened his eyes and smiled his first real smile since all of this began. “You’re a punk.”

“Jerk.” Bucky’s smile was genuine this time, soft and sure, his eyes clear of pain and the weight of the world that had been dragging both of them down. He leaned forward, echoing Steve’s earlier position, tucking his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Now, listen. You and I both know as soon as I’m-” his voice faltered, “under, you’re going to do something stupid like go on a rescue mission.” He tightened his arm around Steve’s waist, leaning on him more heavily to keep him in place and cut off any protests. “Shut up. Promise me right now that you’ll ask for help.”

Steve’s mouth was pressed into a hard line but he nodded. “Okay. Promise.” He could feel Bucky’s relieved breath on his skin and it made him shiver. 

\--

It was time. Bucky tried to make a joke but it fell flat. He looked at the cryo-tube. Steve could see his hand shake from where he stood across the room, watching, waiting. He met Steve’s eyes and tried to smile. “You’d think I’d be used to these things by now, right?” Steve didn’t know what his face was doing but Bucky looked stricken. “Sorry.”

Steve wanted to tell him ‘Last chance to back out’ or ‘Please’ or ‘Don’t’, but he didn’t do any of those things. Instead he took Bucky’s trembling hand and laced their fingers together. His other hand slid to the back of Bucky’s neck and held him still, pressing their foreheads together. He couldn’t speak at first but finally he found the words. “Don’t be scared.”

Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand tighter. “Be here when I wake up?”

“Sure thing, Princess.” Bucky snorted and took his hand from Steve’s grasp to wind his arm around him, gripping him fiercely. The tremors had stopped though his breathing was still fast, not quite panicked but close. Steve held him close and whispered in his ear, “When all of this is over, we’re going to have a very serious talk, understand?” His words were stern, almost scolding, but Bucky understood what he meant instantly. 

_ Stop trying to leave me. _

\--

By the time King T’Challa came to oversee Bucky’s containment, the two men had stepped away from each other. Steve looked out over all of the green that surrounded them and Bucky watched him from the gurney. The tension between them was palpable but they couldn’t wait any longer. They both turned to look at him when he spoke. “It is time.”

Bucky nodded and moved forward, awkward and unsure. “Thank you for this.”

T’Challa stepped forward and offered his hand, clasping Bucky’s forearm. “We will do our best to solve this, Sergeant Barnes. We would do no less for a soldier such as yourself.”

“How long do you think this will take?” The words were abrupt, verging on rude, something that only concern could bring out of Steve Rogers. He blanched, suddenly realizing who he was talking to, but Bucky could see the set to that jaw that he remembered so well on a much smaller frame. “Sorry.”

T’Challa smiled. “Do not worry, Captain Rogers. Your friend will be well taken care of.” He walked a few steps away to give them some semblance of privacy.

Steve had to try one more time. “You sure about this?” They had both agreed that there would be no goodbyes, no more tears. Because Bucky was coming back from this. That was what he had said. Had promised. Steve still wasn’t sure.

There was that peaceful smile again. “I can’t trust my own mind.” He huffed a laugh. He was the most stubborn bastard Steve had ever known, even though Bucky would say the same thing about him. “So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head,” he hesitated, “I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody.”

\--

Steve made himself watch. He watched for any sign of fear, but didn’t feel the relief that he expected when he found none. King T’Challa would have been silent in his approach to anyone else but Steve knew he was there. “Thank you for this.”

The king’s voice was low and rough. “Your friend and my father…,” he hesitated for a moment, “they were both victims. If I can help one of them find peace….” Steve held back a sigh. He didn’t deserve this kind of friendship, not after everything. He would have been more comfortable if T’Challa had just turned them away, instead of inviting them both in with open arms.

“You know if they find out he’s here,” Steve had to make this perfectly clear, “they’ll come for him.”

He glanced at T’Challa to gauge his reaction and was surprised at the calm acceptance that he found there. “Let them try.”

Steve didn’t deserve this. But Bucky did.


End file.
